He was a hairy giant of a man, with long tawny tresses and a solid, muscular build. One of the women flanking him was tall and black and the other was blonde and not quite as tall, and both women were dressed as if to complement the synthetic glitz of the hirsute giant.
The blonde was wearing a wide, flaring red skirt and a turtleneck shin (no bra, Hawes noticed) that was the same color as the man's polyester trousers.
She was also wearing sandals, although it wasn't yet summertime. The black woman was wearing an equally wide, flaring skirt (hers was green) and a turtleneck shin (again, no bra, Hawes noticed) that was the color of the blonde's hair. She, too, was wearing sandals.
"There's a sign," Hawes said.
All three looked around.
Hawes pointed.
The hand-lettered sign just to the fight of the gate in the railing read: STATE YOUR BUSINESS BEFORE ENTERING SQUADROOM
"Oh, sorry," the man said.
"We didn't notice it.
Slight Hispanic accent.
"The desk sergeant said we should come up," blonde said. Little tiny voice. Almost a whisper. it compelled attention. Eyes as blue as the sky stretched beyond the squadroom windows. Voice flat as the plains of Kansas. Hawes visualize cornfields. "My name is Coral Anderson," she said.
Hawes nodded.
"I'm Stanley Garcia," the man said.
"Laramie Forbes," the black woman said.
"Is it all right to come in?" Coral asked.
"You're in already," Hawes said. "Please down.”
Stanley took the chair alongside the desk.
the gent, Hawes thought. The women dragged over for themselves. Sitting, they crossed their le under voluminous skirts. The movement Hawes of the days when hippies roamed the earth.
"How can I help you?" he said.
"I'm first deacon at the Church of the One," Stanley said.
The Church of the Bornless One. Devil-worshi Kristin Lund had said.
Hawes wondered if Coral Laramie were second and third He also wondered what their real names were.
"We're disciples," Laramie said, indicating the blonde with a brief sideward nod.
She had a husky voice. Hawes wondered if she sang in the church choir.
He wondered if there were choirs in churches that worshipped the Devil.
"We're here about the dead priest," Stanley said.
Hawes moved a pad into place.
"No, no," Stanley said at once. "Nothing like that.”
"Nothing like what?" Hawes said. His pencil was poised above the pad like a guillotine about to drop.
"We had nothing to do with his murder," Stanley said.
"That's why we're here," Coral said.
Let's get some square handles first," Hawes said.
They looked at him blankly.
"Your real names," he said.
"Coral is my real name," the blonde said, offended.
Hawes figured she was lying; nobody's real name was Coral.
Nor Laramie, either, for that matter.
"How about you?" he asked the other woman.
"I was born there," she said.
"Where's there?”
“Laramie, Texas," she said. Note of challenge in her husky voice. Dark eyes flashing.
"Does that make it your real name?" Hawes asked.
"How'd you like to be Henrietta all your life?”
Hawes thought Cotton was bad enough. legacy of a religious father who'd believed Cotton Mather was the greatest of the Puritan He shrugged, wrote "Henrietta Forbes" on the studied it briefly, nodded in agreement, and immediately asked the blonde, "How do you Anderson?”
"With an. "O,' "she said.
"Where are you from originally, Coral?”
"Indiana.”
"Lots of Corals out there, I'll bet.”
She hesitated, seemed about to flare, and smiled instead, showing a little gap between her tw upper front teeth. "Well, it was Cora Lucille, guess," she said, still smiling, looking very like a Cora Lucille in that moment. Hawes ima pigtails tied with polka-dot rags. He nodded, "Cora Lucille Anderson" on the pad, and then "And you, Stanley?”
"Stanley," Stanley said. "But in Spanish.”
"Which is?”
"Estaneslao.”
“Thanks," Hawes said. "Now what about priest?”
"We're here about the gate, actually," Coral uncrossing her legs and leaning forward e skirt tented, hands clasped, elbows resting on thighs, the Sixties again. Hawes was swept with sudden wave of nostalgia.
"What gate?" he said.
"The churchyard gate.”
"What about it?”
"What's painted on the gate," Coral said.
"The pentagram.”
"The star," Stanley said.
"Inverted," Laramie said.
"Uh-huh," Hawes said.
Let them run with it, he thought.
"We know what you must be thinking," Stanley said. His accent sounded more pronounced now.
Hawes wondered if he was getting nervous. He said nothing.
"Because of the star," Laramie said.
"And its association to Satanism," Coral said.
"Uh-huh," Hawes said.
"Which many people misunderstand, of course," Coral said, and smiled her gap-toothed smile again.
"In what way?" Hawes asked. "Is the pentagram misunderstood?”
"Yes.”
"In that it's upside down," Stanley said.
"Inverted," Laramie said.
"May I borrow your pencil?" Coral said.
"Sure," he said, and handed it to her.
"And f'll need a piece of paper.”
He tore a page from the back of the pad and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she said.
He noticed that she was holding the pencil in her left hand. He wondered if left-handedness had anything to do with Devil worship. He wondered they were all left-handed.
"This is what a star looks like," she said, and began drawing. "The star we see on the American flag, a sheriff's star, they all look like this.”
Hawes watched as the star look shape.
"There," she said.
"Uh-huh," he said.
"And this is what a star looks like when you it upside down," she said.
"When you invert it," Laramie said.
"Yes," Coral said, her head bent over the sheet paper, her left hand moving. "There," she said a and showed the page to Hawes again. Side by the stars looked like a pair of acrobats cartwheels: "Uh-huh," Hawes said.
"Do you see the difference?”
"Yes, of course.”
"What's the difference?" Coral asked.
"The difference is that the one on the left...”
"Yes, the so-called pure pentagram...”
"Whatever, has only one point on top, whereas the other has two.”
"Yes," Coral said. "And whereas the pure pentagram stands on two points, the symbol of Baphomet...”
"The inverted star...”
"... stands on only one point.”
"Indicating the direction to Hell," Laramie said.
"I see," Hawes said. Though he didn't really.
"If you look at the pure pentagram..." Coral said.
"The one on the left," Stanley said.
"Yes," Hawes said.
"You can imagine, can't you," Coral said, "a man standing with his legs widespread.., those are the two lower points of the star.., and his arms outstretched.., those are the two middle points. His head would be the uppermost point.”
“I see," Hawes said again, trying hard to visualize a man inside the upright star.
"In ancient times..." Coral said.
"Oh, centuries ago," Stanley said.
"The white magicians...”
"This has nothing to do with their color," Laramie said.
"No, only with the kind of magic they performed," Coral said. "White magic.”
"Yes," Hawes said.
"As opposed to black magic," Stanley said.
"Yes.”
"These white magicians," Coral said, "used the pentagram to symbolize the goodness of man...”
"... because it showed him standing upright," Laramie said.